The unexpected hero
by Julie London
Summary: Argus Filch has a secret, deep and dark. But the time has come on which he has to decide, let it out or play it safe? *Written for The Deepest, Darkest Secrets Competition*


**A/N**: Written for **"The Deepest, Darkest Secrets - A Competition"**, created by **annaisadinosaur** on the **HPFC forums**. The rules were to pick a number (which belonged to a character) and write a story about a deep and dark secret of the chosen character. I chose number 2 and it turned out to be Argus Filch. This is what I came up with! :)

**Summary**: Argus Filch has a secret, deep and dark. But the time has come on which he has to decide, let it out or play it safe? *Written for The Deepest, Darkest Secrets Competition*

**Disclaimer**: HP and all of its characters belong to JK Rowling.

Thank you so much for reading!

~ Julie

* * *

><p><span>The unexpected hero<span>

"Think they are so smart…Oh, but they'll see...won't they, sweetheart?" said Argus Filch to his loyal cat as he walked back to his office. He had just taken what looked like a worthless piece of parchment from Potter and Black, and his experience with the two brats told him that the thing was, without a doubt, dangerous. Black had been particularly reluctant to hand it in.

Filch spent the entire afternoon trying to find out what hid behind the blank parchment, however, his efforts were unsuccessful. At the end, he simply tossed it away in his cabinet for confiscated and highly dangerous objects, just to be safe, and then proceeded with the regular caretaker's duties – updating the banned items list, planning detentions, managing the night patrols. And so the desk started to fill with lots and lots of papers. When the dinner time arrived, he stuffed the papers away in the desk's drawers – and that's when he spotted it, his father's old wand. It was a simple beech wand but it meant the world to him. Filch's poor father had nothing but this wand to pass on to his son when he died; it was the most precious object Filch had ever owned. He contemplated it for a long time and even flicked it around, hoping…but nothing happened.

"Snivellus running for his life! Ha ha ha! Potty and Black attack!" Peeves voice was distant, but clear. Potter and Black again. Filch quickly got up and ran out of his office, determined to catch the pair. Peeves's voice came from the third floor, so he had a long distance to travel from the ground floor, where his office was located.

"What's going on? Peeves! Where are they?" asked Filch panting once he arrived.

"Ha ha ha! Poor Filch falls for the trick! Potty and Black do it again!" and Peeves simply flew away, laughing madly. In a sudden act of realisation, Filch ran back to his office, because he knew why they had planned this scheme. He _knew_ that the parchment hid something…

"I will catch 'em," he whispered as he limped furiously.

And he was right, because inside his office stood Black, with the piece of parchment in his hand.

"Looking for something?" he smiled menacingly.

"This is just a piece of parchment!" Black protested and continued defiantly, "don't you see that it's blank? I was going to use it for my essay. I ran out of parchment and this is the last one I got!"

"Who do you think you are fooling, Black?" Filch narrowed his eyes and walked towards the boy. "Give it back!"

"No!" said Black and with that arrogant way of his, walked towards the door.

"Don't you dare leave this office!" said Filch and Black turned around.

"As if you could stop me," he snorted.

Filch's anger rose to no limits; the little brat felt like he owned the school, didn't he? Who was Black to speak to him like that? Who did he think he was to break into his office and steal from him? Without even thinking, he pointed at the boy with his father's wand, which he hadn't noticed he carried until now.

"I said give it back!"

And his head started to hurt, as if a knife slowly twisted inside his brain. The pain started at the nape of his neck and quickly rose to his forehead. It was unbearable. He started to shiver, his stomach clenched and his lungs had no air. He fell to the floor, shaking madly. His eyes rolled up and he lost all sense of time and space; all he felt was the sharp pain spreading all over his body. He heard Black gasped and ran away, leaving him convulsing on the floor.

But despite his spasm he was able to notice the piece of parchment in his trembling hand. It had flown to him. The parchment had flown from Black's tight grasp to _his_ hand. He had summoned it; he had cast a spell. Then, his surroundings became blurry and, finally, everything went black.

The following weeks were everything but joyful. The price he had to pay for performing a simple act of magic was extremely high. He suffered of constant headaches and sickness; at times he wouldn't even be able to leave the bed.

That was the first time _something_ happened, but not the only one. With the years, he realized that his magic abilities only showed in moments of extreme anger or utter desperation, like when Mrs. Norris was petrified. He had been in charge of cleaning the message off the bloodied wall and he remembered trying every single magical cleanser he owned, but nothing worked. So in a rush of frustration, he pointed at the wall with the beech wand and it happened again: the pain, the shivering, the lack of oxygen…and the words were gone. He was found by the Headmaster the next day, laying down unconscious. Of course, the Headmaster only thought that he had fallen asleep while patrolling the area, looking for the one responsible of Mrs. Norris's state. This time, however, the side effects were worse. The headaches and sickness were followed by a severe bleeding, that took months and months to heal.

That had been the second and last time his abilities had materialized, and the results had been horrifying. So what would happen _now_ if he tried one more time? Now, as he stood in the middle of the Great Hall wondering what to do, as the students and teachers ran everywhere, explained strategies and indicated positions… Professor McGonagall brought the statues to life and Professor Flitwick cast spells left and right. He saw Molly Weasley running down the stairs, wand in hand, ready to fight. The students; some of them crying, some of them encouraging the others with words of bravery and heroism…And he just stood there, feeling completely useless. Instinctively, he put his hand inside his left pocket and grabbed the beech wand. What would happen _now_? He would certainly collapse and bleed... and then what? If the spell didn't kill him, the Death Eaters would probably run over his body and finish the work themselves. But surprisingly, he didn't care; he didn't care if he didn't live to see Voldemort dead or Dumbledore's death revenged. This was a war and Hogwarts was fighting. He refused to stand still, refused to let Hogwarts crumble. The feeling was too strong to restrain it, so he just let it flow.

Unnoticed by everybody, he walked out of the Great Hall, towards the school's grounds. Deep down, he knew that his weak spell would not make any difference, but it was his duty to defend the school. He would try, even if it cost him his life, to protect Hogwarts. So without any hesitation, terrified to the core, Argus Filch took the wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the sky.

"Salvio Hexia…Protego Totalum…"


End file.
